


a runaway teenage dream

by Comedia



Category: Cobra Kai (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Frottage, Getting Together, Loneliness, M/M, Making Out, Mention of Past Abuse, Post S3, Yearning, accidentally bringing your former rival to the gayest horror movie of the 80s, bonding through music, introspective, mixtapes, no beta we die like men, soft fight kink, touch as a trauma trigger, touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29522859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comedia/pseuds/Comedia
Summary: Johnny doesn't set out to befriend Daniel, it just sort of happens. They spend the months after the tournament in '84 drifting ever closer, and then Daniel leaves for Japan. Decades later, they're reunited.
Relationships: Daniel LaRusso/Johnny Lawrence
Comments: 35
Kudos: 129





	1. summer of almosts

**Author's Note:**

> hi. i'm in cobra kai hell. this is my life now

The first time Johnny buys something for Daniel LaRusso they’re stood in line at a cafe. A few months have passed since the tournament, and since _the_ _incident_ in the parking lot, they haven’t really seen each other around much. It hasn’t been an active avoidance on Johnny’s part… he’s just been busy. 

Now, here they are. Daniel is at the counter, cursing beneath his breath as he digs through his pockets. “Could’ve sworn I...”

The cashier is waiting for him, patient at first, but time passes and it’s obvious Daniel doesn’t have any money on him. He waits for a bit, playing out the part of someone who needs people to know that he absolutely _has_ money, he just _forgot_ it, and finally he turns to the cashier with his most winning grin, and it’s a painful thing to watch. From the look on the lady’s face, it’s clear LaRusso can’t charm his way out of this one.

Johnny takes out his wallet and places enough money on the counter to pay for Daniel’s food and drink. Daniel looks at the money that suddenly appeared, a gleam of recognition in his eyes just at the sight of Johnny’s hand. The fact that he’s paid enough attention to him to know him just by the muscle of his arm has Johnny feel some type of way, and then those dark eyes trail upwards, as if Daniel needs to take in every part of him to confirm that Johnny Lawrence is, in fact, standing next to him. It’s the slowest double take in history, and it’s not uncomfortable as much as it’s entertaining. By the time their eyes meet, Johnny can feel his lips pull into a smirk.

“Johnny?” Daniel says, licking his lips, looking sort of dumbstruck.

“LaRusso”, he replies, taking a step back, the cashier looking between the two of them, seemingly unsure if she should accept the money. 

“Are you cutting in line?” Daniel says, finally, looking like he doesn’t think that’s the case at all.

“No, I’m paying for your shit”, Johnny replies, exasperated, and part of him feels like this is when he should regret his decision – but he doesn’t. “Now scram. I need coffee.”

For the longest time Daniel stares at him, and then he nods, once, turning to pick up his things, while Johnny orders coffee, black, sugar – yes, lots of it, please.

At first, he doesn’t notice how Daniel lingers. Only when the bastard snorts a laugh at his order does Johnny glance at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t mind me”, Daniel sing-songs. “I just didn’t expect tough guy Johnny Lawrence to have a sweet tooth. Sugar isn’t good for maintaining that terrifying vandal physique you’ve got going on.”

“I don’t have a sweet tooth. Coffee just tastes like shit”, Johnny mutters. He does take note of Daniel’s comments about his _physique_ , but on the other hand, does the guy ever not run his mouth? Sometimes it’s like he thinks he’d die if he shut up for too long.

“Then why do you drink it?” Daniel asks, tilting his head. “If it’s so shitty you could just… not put yourself through that.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know”, Johnny says, taking his cup of coffee and winking at the cashier. All he wants to do now is fuck off out into the dusky evening and curl up in his car. He didn’t expect having to hold actual conversation when he walked into this place.

Only when he’s about to leave does he realize why Daniel’s been stuck at his side by the counter. He’s still on crutches, trying to figure out how to carry his food and stay upright at the same time. Johnny sighs, grabbing Daniel’s things and walking over to a close by table, setting everything down. “There.”

“Yeah, okay, why are you nice to me?” Daniel asks as he catches up to him, those eyes that are normally so wide and curious are now narrow, fixed on Johnny like he’s a puzzle – a very interesting one at that. “Are you gonna try and drown me in my milkshake or something?”

“Give me a break, I’m not being nice”, Johnny says, rolling his eyes, lingering by the table despite the fact that he could just… leave. “It was just painful to watch you up there. Had to step in for the greater good.”

“Sure, you did”, Daniel snorts, shaking his head, glancing down at the food. It’s clear that he’s trying to sit down, but there’s no easy way for him to slide onto the chair without his crutches getting in the way. Johnny doesn’t offer him help exactly, but he notices Daniel struggle and shifts on his feet, so that his arm is within reach. Daniel only hesitates for a moment, and then grabs hold of his bicep to lower himself on to the chair. The touch only lasts for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime.

Averting his eyes, clearing his throat, finding his bearings, Daniel finally speaks. “I did have money you know; I just left my wallet at home.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’ll pay you back”, Daniel insists, his gaze wandering from the food, to Johnny, and then back again.

“Don’t worry about it”, Johnny offers something like a salute before he heads out the door, and only when he sits down behind the wheel of his car, drinking the horrible coffee, does everything catch up with him. A salute? What the fuck was that about?

These long work shifts truly has him act delirious at times.

He puts on the radio, letting it fill the silence, relaxing into the seat. This is always the worst part of the day – when he’s done at work, and he’s run out of excuses not to head home. He can drag it out by driving around, going to an arcade, work out, but eventually, there’s nowhere else for him to go.

The coffee is bitter, yet sweet enough to make his lips sticky, and the radio is playing some truly horrible hits, and all he can think about is how he just spent part of his weekly salary of Daniel LaRusso out of all people. Not a date, not his mom, not his friends – LaRusso. Holy hell.

Not only that, with every sip of coffee, as he lifts the cup and feels the flex of his arm, it’s like the heat of Daniel’s touch is still there, beneath his skin. It shouldn’t be special, but truth be told, Johnny hasn’t allowed himself to get close to anyone since the tournament. Things changed back then. Not because of the actual fights, no, but because of what happened after the main event.

It’s been weeks, if not months. His mom tries to pull him in for a hug, and he shies away, immediately feeling ashamed for doing so. He’s distanced himself from his friends – not on purpose as much as work simply taking up his time. And well, quitting going to the dojo hasn’t exactly helped him stay in touch. They’re all busy with figuring out life after high-school, with dating and doing dumb shit. He didn’t even notice how isolated he’s been until LaRusso touches him, and suddenly it feels like it _means_ something.

Johnny has missed this, more than he previously realized. For years, even when he hasn’t dated anyone, he’s had his friends around. Always had people that he can talk to, goof around with, people he can tease, casually hug or wrestle. A lot of small moments and gestures that, even when his life has been utter shit, somehow made him feel, well, sort of safe. Sort of loved, even. Now there’s nothing, and out of all people, LaRusso shows up and forces this thought into his head; this _need_ to find someone, anyone, that could maybe… hug him for a while, or stroke his hair. Honestly, eye contact would probably do it for him at this point. Just. Someone making him feel seen, treating him sort of nice, it would be… it’d be good.

God. He’s pathetic. He needs to get laid or something. Johnny lets out a sigh, trying not to think about how brokenly wistful it sounds, and then lifts the cup of coffee again, ignoring the heat beneath his skin.

The coffee is bitter on his tongue, lukewarm now, and the only thing preventing him from spitting it out is his love for his car.

He hits the back of his head against the seat, groaning. This summer will be the fucking worst.

The second time Johnny buys something for Daniel LaRusso they’re in a book shop. He’s on his way home from work, and only intended to make a real quick stop, when he notices no one other than the karate kid in the aisle, a pile of books beneath one arm, eyeing a display of comic books nearby. Daniel isn’t using crutches anymore, but he clearly avoids putting too much weight on the injured leg. Johnny wonders how long the recovery will take. He wonders how the fuck he’s supposed to live with himself if this is something that Daniel will have to deal with for the rest of his life.

Johnny considers just paying for his own book and leaving. He considers it for a real long time. Long enough for Daniel to notice that he’s being watched – to tear his gaze from the comics and catch Johnny staring. When their eyes lock, Daniel doesn’t smile – and Johnny wonders why on earth he’s expecting LaRusso to smile at the sight of him. The thought is alien to him, but he also can’t ignore it, because it’s intrusive enough that he can’t really focus on anything else. For some reason, he feels a sort of hope that one day, soon, Daniel will look at him, and at that first moment of recognition, smile.

Slowly, Johnny walks down the aisle. He’s got his book in a tight grip, fingers covering the spine, making it hard to see the title and author. Daniel watches him approach with something between apprehension and intrigue. Those full lips part, and Johnny can already imagine a dozen insufferable comments, so he strikes first. Old habits die hard.

“You’ve been staring at the comics for like ten minutes, LaRusso”, he says, punctuating the statement with a quirked eyebrow.

“You’ve been watching me stare at comics for ten minutes?” Daniel immediately counters, looking mighty proud of his comeback, and well… he should be, because Johnny flounders, looking around the shop as if an employee will randomly show up and save him.

“I’ve been here for a while”, he says, finally. “Had a hard time finding the book I was looking for.”

Daniel looks like he considers making a joke about Johnny being illiterate or something, but he doesn’t, and somehow the absence of the rude comment is even more annoying than if he actually said it. Instead, his eyes fall to the book Johnny’s holding, and there’s immediately a gleam of recognition. “Is that a Patti Smith collection?” Daniel asks, sounding as if he’s trying not to laugh in Johnny’s face.

“Maybe it is”, Johnny says, narrowing his eyes. “You recognize poetry by the cover, LaRusso? I always knew you were a nerd, but…”

“Hey, you’re the one buying it”, Daniel says, smirking. It draws Johnny’s eyes to the sharp curve of his cupid’s bow – to how he quickly licks his lips, smiling wider, a very clever and snide comment probably at the tip of his tongue already.

Johnny takes a deep breath, because he can feel his pulse pick up, a slight ringing in his ears. Part of him wants to punch LaRusso, to break the skin of his knuckles against that grin, and part of him wonders why such an innocent comment would have him immediately think of violence.

Maybe Daniel picks up on his inner turmoil, or he’s simply unable to stand prolonged silences. He tilts his head, looking between Johnny and the book. “What made you want to buy it?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Daniel shrugs, his smile kinder now. “I dunno, I like some of her songs.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, feeling like he’s being baited. “Oh yeah? Name one.”

“Because the night”, Daniel replies immediately, looking smug for passing the test.

Johnny shakes his head, hoping it somewhat conceals his smile. “That’s Springsteen, dumbass.”

“Ah yes, of course, it’s very easy to confuse those two”, Daniel’s voice is practically dripping with sarcasm. “When I first heard _Born in the USA_ I thought it was by Patti Smith, and I wondered why she got patriotic all of a sudden.”

God, LaRusso is insufferable. Extra so, because Johnny can’t help but to snicker. He sighs, glancing at the comic book rack, anything not to be pulled deeper into this back and forth that feels almost like sparring. “You’re very uppity for a guy staring at children’s magazines.”

“Shut up”, Daniel mutters. “I just noticed they had a bunch of Transformers stuff.”

“What”, and Johnny properly turns to looks through the new releases. Finger trailing the titles until he finds Optimus Prime’s familiar face amongst all the superheroes. “I didn’t know they made these”, he murmurs, mostly to himself.

“Well, I was tempted to check them out, but mom wanted me to buy some books to prepare for college and they’re expensive as all hell”, Daniel says, attempting to gesture with the pile of books he’s already holding. It doesn’t come across as too dramatic though, as they’re clearly too heavy to wave around, and he also winces from the effort, probably putting too much weight on his bad knee.

Watching Daniel grit his teeth for that split second, pain flashing through his features, feels like a physical thing. Like Johnny can feel that same flash of hurt, bursting through his own chest and through his limbs. Before thinking too much about it, he picks up a few of the Transformers comics and heads for the counter where the shop owner is stood, eyeing them curiously.

“Let’s get out of here”, he says, belatedly. Daniel doesn’t follow him immediately, and Johnny guesses the guy is too busy staring at him, but he doesn’t turn around. It feels like a much too risky thing to do.

He pays for the poetry collection and the comics, the lady behind the counter putting everything into a bag for him. Then he finds himself standing there, not really having an excuse to linger, when Daniel finally sidles up to him, paying for his depressingly expensive pile of school books.

“I’ll carry those”, Johnny says, Daniel’s pained grimace from before flashing through his mind. He doesn’t wait for a reply, and instead grabs all of their purchases, nodding towards the exit.

Only when they’re side by side on the pavement does he realize that he has no idea where Daniel is headed, and thus has no idea for how long he’s going to have to carry the books. He also realizes that he’s finished all of his errands for the day, and that he doesn’t have any excuse not to head home.

“Uh”, he says, not looking at Daniel while he speaks, because that would make what he’s about to ask even weirder. “Do you want to grab something to eat?”

“What?” Daniel asks flatly, and when Johnny chances a glance at him, he’s immediately caught in those warm, mahogany eyes. He clears his throat.

“Food, LaRusso, ever heard of it? It fuels the human body and keeps us alive.”

“What a novel concept”, Daniel says, eyebrows raised high, as if he has a hard time following the conversation. “I guess I could go for a milkshake?”

He still stares at Johnny with a slightly bewildered look, but there’s a gleam in his eyes now, and Johnny thinks that he’ll definitely get him something with a lot of sprinkles and a cherry on top.

“Cool”, he says, nodding, being very casual and finding great pride in his self-restraint.

“You’re paying though”, Daniel says, his tone light-hearted as if he’s joking, but Johnny’s already nodding, accepting this without a question.

That’s how they end up in a nearby diner, Johnny wolfing down a burger and Daniel poking at a giant strawberry milkshake. At first, they don’t talk much, but the silence isn’t exactly uncomfortable. Johnny definitely prefers this to sitting in his car, staring at nothing until his mind gets too loud – until he reaches the point where he’d rather seek out shitty company than be alone.

“So, for how long have you been reading poetry?” Daniel says, finally, because of course he’d get hung up on that subject.

“I don’t”, Johnny mutters. His fingers are messy from the burger, and he sucks the tip of his thumb into his mouth to lick off the mustard, only catching himself when he realizes that Daniel’s dark gaze is fixed on his lips. He settles for wiping his hands on a napkin instead. “It’s just like reading her songs, okay? One step away from just listening to music. It doesn’t even count as poems.”

Daniels nods, like he’s not really listening, and he licks his lips before speaking. “Whatever you say.”

Johnny could mention how he’s read part of the book with Ali. It was years ago, but still. It’s a good memory, looking at the pages over her shoulder, listening to her read softly. He could talk about how there are a few albums in his mom’s record collection that she’ll play in the morning when they’re having breakfast, just the two of them. Patti Smith and Fleetwood Mac and Pat Benatar. Sometimes he doesn’t get _why_ she likes something, but it doesn’t matter, because she shares it with him. Smiling easily, humming along to the lyrics, and those moments make Johnny desperately want to understand _everything._ Even now, that the space between them is wider than ever, he just longs for any way to feel that connection with her.

“Earth to Johnny”, Daniel says, suddenly, and it’s cheesy enough to startle him back into reality. He has no idea for how long he’s been spaced out, but Daniel’s glass is only half full at this point. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking about what a nerd you are”, Johnny tries, weakly, realizing too late that he’s given Daniel a perfect opening for endless teasing.

“Damn, if I make you zone out like that, I must’ve made a pretty powerful impression on you”, Daniel says with a grin. “I always imagined you’d have this really angry look on your face when thinking about me, you know? Seething, red-faced…”

“You’ve imagined what I look like when I think about you?” and Johnny can barely keep from laughing, his voice breaking towards the end of the sentence. “Knew you were obsessed with me, LaRusso.”

“Says the guy who practically stalked me since I moved to this damn place”, Daniel mutters, but he’s blushing now.

Johnny clears his throat, looking out the window. The sun is setting, and the neon sign of the diner is painting the pavement in a sheen of pink and blue. “Do you want a ride home?”

“I guess”, Daniel replies, and Johnny hears him slurp up what’s left of his milkshake. “Isn’t it like, mad inconvenient for you, though?”

Johnny shrugs, glancing at him now, hoping he comes across as effortless. Casual. “Don’t worry about it. Those books look too heavy for your skinny ass to haul home on your own, anyway.”

“Wow”, Daniel shakes his head, sighing, and he would look disappointed if it wasn’t for the smile on his lips. “And here I thought you were capable of being sort of nice.”

“Shut up, I’m delightful”, Johnny states, as confidently as he can muster, and he gets nothing but a snicker in reply.

Soon enough, they’re leaving the diner. Johnny leads him to the car, and before throwing his bag in the backseat, he grabs the comics, handing them to Daniel. “Enjoy your nerdy robot shit.”

“For a while there I thought you got them for yourself to play some weird mind games on me”, Daniel replies, talking quickly as he eyes the covers.

Johnny doesn’t immediately let go of the comics, lingering long enough for their fingers to brush before he pulls back. The he quickly gets behind the wheel, Daniel sliding into the passenger side. The car is cramped, and while trying to fold himself into the seat Daniel sucks in a breath, a hand coming to rest over his bad knee. Johnny has to look away, because he wants to do something to make it better, and he has no idea what he could possibly offer to fix something like that. Instead, he focuses on driving, engine roaring and they set off into the night.

“So, what are your plans for the evening?” Daniel asks, and the silence hasn’t exactly been uncomfortable, but Johnny realizes that he’s missed his voice, and fuck if that isn’t… a lot to suddenly be hit with.

He clears his throat, keeping his eyes on the road. “Got a movie I might watch.”

“Let me guess, it’s a cheesy martial arts flick?”

He doesn’t have to look at Daniel – he can _hear_ the teasing smile. “You shouldn’t stereotype people, LaRusso. It’s actually The Thing.”

“Johnny Lawrence, a horror movie fan? Never would’ve guessed”, Daniel muses, and Johnny glances at him then. The smile isn’t teasing anymore – it’s a soft, subtle thing, not meant to be seen.

“Wouldn’t say I love horror specifically. Movies are movies.”

Daniel snorts at that. “No dude, some movies are chill and others scare you shitless. There’s a difference.”

Johnny is silent for a moment, thinking that over. “Always thought you were too stubborn to be easily scared.”

“I’m not easily scared”, Daniel says immediately, a confrontational note to his voice, but it seems exaggerated. Almost joking.

“Prove it.”

And when Johnny doesn’t say anything else, Daniel twists in his seat, frustrated, not knowing what to do with the energy of a challenge that he doesn’t know how to tackle. “How?”

It’s not like Johnny has a plan. He doesn’t know how to follow up on this except shouting _“BOO”_ at Daniel to see if he’ll flinch. “There’s a new Nightmare on Elm Street out. We could watch that?”

In the corner of his eye, he can see Daniel nod, slowly, thinking very seriously about this suggestion. “When?”

“Next Friday?”

Daniel is silent for a long time. He’s staring out the window, biting at his bottom lip, seemingly lost in thought. Johnny clears his throat. “What, too pussy to watch a Freddy Krueger movie? Does the knife glove scare you, LaRusso?”

Daniel snorts at that, looking at Johnny with narrow eyes, utterly unimpressed with the insult. “As if. _You’re on.”_

“Bet you’re gonna jump out of your seat”, Johnny murmurs, leaning over towards Daniel slightly as he makes a right turn. “Bet you’re gonna cling to me like a girl.”

He doesn’t get an immediate reply. Instead, Daniel punches his shoulder, and he definitely put some of his karate training into it. Johnny won’t be surprised if he wakes up with a bruise tomorrow.

“If you wanted me to cling to you, you could just be a man and tell me”, Daniel says, all challenge, shit-eating grin on his face. Maybe he thinks it’s a safe thing to joke about. Maybe he has no idea that the words will get beneath Johnny’s skin, more bruising than any punch.

“Shut up, LaRusso, and let me park”, he mutters, wrapping an arm around the back of Daniel’s seat as he leans back to look out the rear window. He can feel Daniel look at him, then, and feel the ghost of his breath against his throat, his cheek. Johnny doesn’t trust himself to meet his gaze, so once they’re parked, he sits back in the driver’s seat, trying to relax. His hands are still on the wheel, and he expects Daniel to quickly get out of the car. Of course, Daniel remains seated next to him.

“You know, I’ve always thought your car looks like it could be a Transformer”, LaRusso says, and even from the corner of his eye Johnny can see him grinning. “It would definitely be a Decepticon, though.”

“You’re a Decepticon”, Johnny answers immediately. “With that big mouth, you’d be someone like, fucking… Megatron.”

Daniel is honest-to-god laughing now, and for a second Johnny takes in the sight of him. The dimples in his cheeks, his dark eyelashes featherlike over olive skin, and then the spell is broken when Daniel reaches over to touch Johnny’s knee.

It’s not… weird. It’s meant as a knee-slap, a touch to say _“you think you’re funny, asshole”,_ or something like that. But Johnny stares at his leg, at that tan hand on his blue jeans, and he feels like he’s been branded. Even though it only lasts for a second, he knows that this will linger well into the night – stay in his mind and beneath his skin until he manages to fall asleep.

Then Daniel’s opened the door, and he’s out on the street, leaning heavily on the side of the car to peek inside. “See you Friday, yeah?”

Johnny nods. “You’ll be scared shitless, LaRusso.”

“Whatever you say, Optimus Prime”, Daniel sing-songs, clutching his pile of books and comics to his chest as he hobbles towards his house. Johnny wonders if Daniel’s injury seems worse to him because of the guilt, or if a stranger would also notice the way he struggles to stay upright. He wonders why on earth Daniel would call him Optimus Prime, out of all the characters he could choose from.

He wonders if he’ll ever hear The Touch without thinking about a scrawny Jersey boy.

The third time Johnny buys something for Daniel LaRusso they’re at the cinema. He’s worked hard in the past week. Not because his boss has been on his case; he’s just found it easy to exhaust himself, sweating through the day, pushing his physical limits to make sure his mind doesn’t spiral. The more time he spends on his own the more his thoughts get out of control, and he’s found the best solution is simply not to think at all.

Working has come at a cost though. He hasn’t rested properly in days, and when he tries taking a nap on Friday, he ends up oversleeping terribly. He barely has the time to shower, and even less so styling his hair or planning an outfit. Perhaps those are all good things. Perhaps things would just get weird if Daniel thought he’d gone through the effort to look nice for him.

So, Johnny meets LaRusso outside of the movie theatre, and everything gets weird anyway. Daniel is staring at his chin, and it takes him a moment to realize that he’s forgotten to shave. Then Daniel is reaching for him, the palm of his hand stroking along the stubble, brown eyes widening at the texture.

“Damn, you’ve got some serious beard growth”, he says, finally lowering his hand.

Johnny clears his throat. “Easy to impress you, baby face.”

Daniel rolls his eyes at that, and then he walks ahead, trusting Johnny to follow him. As they walk, Johnny can see Daniel stretching his fingers wide before closing his hand into a fist. He tells himself Daniel’s doing it to get rid of the feeling of Johnny’s stubble against his skin. He knows that’s probably not the case.

Johnny buys them two tickets, a bucket of popcorn and a couple of cokes. Daniel finds them seats in the middle row, saying something about sound quality and watching the movie from a good angle. Johnny just nods along. He never pays attention to stuff like that, but if it’s important to Daniel he won’t protest about being dragged around until they’ve found the perfect spot.

The movie starts well enough with some haunting shit going on, but within a short while the main character is dancing through his room, lip-syncing _“touch me baby, all night long”_. They’ve talked a bit about metaphor in school, and Johnny thinks that maybe if he was smarter, he’d get the symbolism of this scene, like, how it’s connected to being stalked by a psycho murderer or whatever. There’s probably a lot of thought put into this that goes right over his head.

He only realizes how distracted he’s been when he feels Daniel’s breath against the side of his face – a huffed laugh. “You sure you brought me to a horror movie, Lawrence?” and somehow the use of his last name seems intimate, simply because it’s _rare._ A full-body shiver runs through him, and well, maybe Daniel’s breath, sweet from soda, hot against his skin, also has something to do with it.

Johnny doesn’t look away from the screen, stubbornly staring at the dude in sunglasses gyrating, because the only other option is turning to Daniel and he’s still _so close._

“Shut up. I bet he’s gonna die any second”, Johnny mutters, and he hears Daniel snort a laugh at that. Then he hears him shifting in his seat, and only when he’s sure Daniel’s turned back to the screen does he chance a glance at him. His profile is illuminated by the movie; dark eyebrows arched, and his lips curved in a smile, but he’s biting at his bottom lip as if trying to hide it. Johnny allows himself to look at him for a few seconds more, and then the song stops playing, the scene is over, and he turns back to the screen.

The movie isn’t actually that scary. Johnny is sort of disappointed, because the point of this was to watch Daniel jump out of his seat. Hear him yelp in surprise – maybe grab on to Johnny’s arm to steady himself during an intense scene.

Instead, everything is sort of goofy and incoherent. At one point a cockatoo explodes, and it catches Johnny off guard. He bursts out laughing, and the rest of the cinema is dead silent around him. He covers his mouth with a hand, trying to keep the laughter in, which honestly only makes it worse. Eventually he turns to Daniel, and finds him staring, those dark eyes warm in the dim light of the cinema. He has no idea what Daniel sees when looking at him, but after a moment he snorts, shaking his head as he chuckles, and it’s… nice.

An hour later they walk out of the movie theatre, and Johnny’s groaning. “That was shit.”

“Says the psychopath who was _delighted_ at the exploding bird scene”, Daniel says, grinning.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me it wasn’t funny”, Johnny replies, turning to face him, and just like expected, Daniel immediately jumps on the challenge. If you told the guy he couldn’t karate-fight a truck, he’d probably walk into oncoming traffic to prove you wrong. Now Daniel’s standing on his toes, eye-level, lips parted, as if he’s been about to say something, but those words have died on the tip of his tongue.

“Uh”, Daniel manages, averting his gaze for a second before looking back at him.

Johnny’s so used at being caught by those dark eyes that he can do nothing but marvel at the feeling of having the same effect on Daniel. It’s intoxicating, and he can’t chase this – can’t figure out where this goes while they’re stood in the middle of town.

He smiles instead, tilting his head to the side. “See? Guess we’re both psychopaths, LaRusso.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow at that, keeping the eye contact a few seconds longer, before he shakes his head. When he steps back, it doesn’t feel like the space between them grows.

The night is dark, the sky is clear, and Johnny doesn’t feel cold at all. “Wanna go to the beach?” he asks, before he can think better of it.

“Ain’t got nowhere better to be”, Daniel replies noncommittally, but he’s already heading for Johnny’s car, not looking back.

The drive is fairly short, and Johnny doesn’t trust himself with conversation, so instead he puts on the radio. _Tramps like us, baby we were born to run,_ and he’s close to singing the lyrics, but instead he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, nodding along.

“I love this Patti Smith song”, Daniel says, and Johnny needs a moment to actually catch the reference. Then he’s laughing, a startled loud thing, and Daniel’s grinning at him, looking all proud.

“Dumbass”, Johnny mutters, parking by the side of the road. Before heading out into the sand he takes off his shoes and socks, tossing them into the car. He knows better than coming home late, dragging dirt into the house. Daniel follows his example, and then they walk onto the beach barefoot, side by side.

Johnny wonders if Daniel’s thinking about their first meeting, because it’s currently playing on repeat in his head. He wonders if he should apologize, or just not bring it up at all. He wonders if the beach could ever be anything else for them.

The sky is so dark, and the sand is cool and pale beneath his feet. The sea is nearly still, only gentle waves rolling in, and a light breeze swirl around them.

Daniel’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and for a moment Johnny thinks he’s mad about something. Then he realizes that he’s simply cold. No wonder, with how he’s only wearing a thin, worn out shirt over that skinny frame. Johnny doesn’t even hesitate to shrug off his leather jacket and drape it over Daniel’s shoulders.

Johnny is rarely the one to initiate touch between them. Partly because he’s a coward, but also because, well… when he’s initiated things in the past it hasn’t exactly been a good thing. Now his hands linger on Daniel’s shoulders, until those brown eyes find him in the dark, and the only thought in his mind is how good LaRusso looks in red.

“So”, Daniel says, nuzzling into the jacket, wrapping it around himself properly, savouring Johnny’s body heat. “Did you like _anything_ about the movie?”

Johnny shrugs. “I liked when the gym teacher died.”

He doesn’t think about the implications of what he’s said until Daniel remains silent, watching him for a while, those dark eyes so very curious.

“Yeah, that must’ve been pretty cathartic to watch.”

Johnny averts his gaze, looking out over the calm sea. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Have you kept up with karate?” Daniel asks, voice milder now.

“Don’t think I could ever give it up”, Johnny murmurs. This isn’t exactly something he spends a lot of time thinking about. In fact, he works very hard at keeping it out of his mind. “But I guess it’s different, figuring stuff out on my own instead of having the cobras, you know?”

“I don’t”, Daniel says, but there’s no venom in his voice. “It’s always just been me. Can’t imagine training without my sensei, though.”

“Yeah. You should be happy he doesn’t have murderous tendencies.”

Daniel doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he steps in close, bumping his shoulder with Johnny’s. It’s gentle, the kind of wordless communication Johnny has been missing – craving. His heart seizes, and he wants to do something, _anything,_ but he can’t think of a single sane thing to do in the moment. So, he just keeps walking, Daniel at his side.

“We could train sometime”, he says, knowing that it might be a terrifying suggestion coming from him, but hoping that Daniel won’t take it that way.

“That sounds like a recipe for disaster”, Daniel muses, but at least it sounds like he finds it entertaining rather than, well, a threat or something.

“I bet it would be fun, though”, Johnny says, and this might actually be the first time that he purposefully grins at LaRusso. At first there’s nothing but surprise in those big, dark eyes, and then Daniel matches his grin, somewhere between cocky and intrigued.

“Oh yeah? You’re that desperate for me to kick you in the face again, huh?”

Johnny snorts, shaking his head. “Keep pretending _I’m_ the masochist out of the two of us, LaRusso. We both know the truth.”

Daniel bumps against his shoulder again, harder this time. Johnny considers tackling him. Imagines properly wrestling him to the ground, and… would they laugh? Would it be light-hearted? Are they even capable of play-fighting without their past tainting it?

He doesn’t chase the touch, doesn’t chase the images in his head, and instead he keeps the conversation going. He keeps his eyes mostly on the ground, stealing glances at Daniel every now and then when he thinks he’ll get away with it. Mostly he doesn’t – it’s like Daniel has an uncanny ability to know when Johnny’s looking at him. He always has.

They talk about karate for a while longer, until Johnny asks about the books Daniel was buying that day a week ago. Suddenly he gets a full rant about college, how Daniel isn’t sure what to do with life, how he isn’t sure college is the right choice for him, but he’s planning for it anyway, because _what else is there._ Johnny wishes he had an answer, he really does, but he can't offer anything more than sharing his own uncertainty; the need for things to _change,_ but having no idea how to achieve that.

He’s unsure for how long they walk aimlessly along the beach. All he knows is that it hasn’t been this easy to talk to anyone in a long time – to have the conversation flow intensely, easily, like karate.

All he knows is that it’s hard not to look at Daniel, the red jacket always at the corner of his eye, drawing him in, framing those dark features and soulful gaze.

By the time Johnny drives them home, he’s shivering, the cold ocean winds having soaked through his shirt. He still lets Daniel keep the jacket though, and watches him leave the car still wearing it. When he reaches the front door, he turns, the light spilling out around him, and he raises a hand to wave at Johnny. Only then does he turn the ignition again, waving back before he takes off into the night.

Since they first met, Johnny’s spent a lot of time thinking about Daniel LaRusso.

In the beginning, it was easy to blame it all on Ali. Here comes this Jersey kid, all fiery temperament and easy smiles, eyes wide and inviting, flaming locks of dark brown hair – how could Johnny ignore someone like that? Someone who moves in on Ali and doesn’t give a shit about the consequences.

Daniel rises to challenges like it’s the only thing in life that matters, and sometimes when Johnny stares at him he looks uncertain of how to handle the attention, but he never backs down.

For the longest time, Johnny can tell himself it’s about Ali. It’s about respect, manhood, shit like that. Except he knows damn well it’s not. Either his fixation has sort of warped over time, or maybe… maybe it’s always been like this. Maybe the simple answer to why he always, _always_ seeks Daniel out – why he could find the guy in any crowd within seconds – is LaRusso himself. Plain and simple.

Johnny spends that summer buying things for Daniel, and he’d rather not think too much about it. It feels like a smooth way to make up for, well, _everything..._ but part of him knows that there’s a lot more too it than that.

Since they went to the cinema, they don’t run into each-other randomly anymore. Daniel comes by his work and waits for Johnny’s shift to end. Johnny parks outside of Daniel’s house and lays the car horn until Daniel, exasperated, comes running out the door, that red jacket over his shoulders.

Most days when they hang out, it seems that Daniel brings the jacket with the intention to give it back, and Johnny always goes out of his way to ensure he’s still got it by the end of the night. He likes Daniel in red. He wonders what other people think when they see LaRusso clad in Johnny’s leather. He feels that as long as Daniel has his jacket, they won’t go their separate ways.

“I think I might be going to Japan”, Daniel says one day. They’re at the diner, sharing some French fries. Daniel’s drinking soda, Johnny’s chugging coffee in preparation for his evening shift. Daniel’s voice is light, unbothered, as if he’s commenting on the weather, but there’s a crease between his eyebrows. Something like worry – like he’s trying to figure something out and nearly giving himself a headache in the process.

“Okay”, Johnny draws the word out, trying to give himself time to think. “Is it a vacation or…?”

Daniel sighs, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I have the chance to go there with Mister Miyagi, and I don’t think I’d forgive myself if I didn’t.”

Johnny just hums in reply, showing that he’s listening while trying to take in the information. He’s no ace at geography, but Japan feels about as far as you can get from the US.

“You gotta do what you gotta do, LaRusso”, he says, proud of how sagely his delivery sounds. His voice doesn’t break, not even a little, but he’s surprised to find that it feels like his heart is shattering. He knew he was getting in too deep with Daniel, but he didn’t think it was this bad, this serious.

“Yeah”, Daniel says, staring at him from across the table, and for once, he doesn’t avert his gaze the way he normally does. Usually there’s something shy about him. He’ll look at Johnny, and then, like he’s scared, or embarrassed – or like he’s stared too long at the sun – he’ll look away for a second or two. Not this time. Now they just sit in silence, watching each-other, and Johnny feels like he’s about to strike the guy. Feels like he’s about to be kicked in the head again. Feels like they’re already on the other side of a fight, exhausted, empty.

Daniel sighs then, reaching across the table with an overstated gesture, patting Johnny’s hand while putting on an exaggeratingly concerned face. “Worried you won’t survive without me, Lawrence?”

It’s easy and playful the way things normally are between them, but once Daniel’s played out his fake concern, his hand remains on Johnny’s. It’s gentle, but it’s _there,_ and Johnny needs a moment to process it. Because this is how Daniel always touches him. Easily, kindly. Always a brief, fleeting thing, and Johnny rarely returns it, because part of him still doubts that he’s capable of touching without hurting. Feels like he, for years, has only managed to destroy; friends, partners, himself. He doesn’t know how to reach out. Doesn’t know if he deserves to.

“I’ll be _fine,_ LaRusso”, he sneers, trying to step up with something exaggerated, something playful, of his own. “You’re the one who’s gonna get shanked by ninjas or some shit.”

Usually, Daniel just chuckles at his jokes, but on rare occasions, he actually laughs. Head thrown back; dark eyes gleaming. It’s surreal to see him be so carelessly happy, despite everything he’s been through. It has Johnny wonder how he could ever get violent with the guy. It has him make a promise to himself that he’ll never throw a punch Daniel LaRusso’s way again.

The next couple of weeks are almost normal. It’s a blur of shitty diner food, car rides at dusk, and walks on the beach. They never go swimming and they don’t talk about why. It’s like they instinctually know that it could lead to something complicated; something different to what they share now. Johnny isn’t sure he’d want to risk _different._ If he could stay forever the way they are right now, that would be… good. Better than he’d ever hoped.

He’s never had a better excuse not to head home after work. Daniel quickly becomes a shelter outside of his home – a sort of safety he didn’t know he could ever have.

Throughout all of it though, he’s preparing for what’s to come. It’s like he’s already seen the end of this, and even though he wishes things were different, he knows that the end of summer will bring a close to this thing they share.

So, he’s bought Daniel a Walkman, and he’s making a mixtape. It starts as a joke. A song from the Transformers soundtrack, and _“all night long”_ from Freddy’s Revenge – just a bunch of dumb shit that’ll crack Daniel up when he listens to it. However, the longer Johnny works on the mixtape, the more serious he gets about it. He thinks back on these past months, and he picks songs that are references to things they’ve talked about, or music they’ve listened to together while driving around the Valley. Some tracks are new though. Things they’ve never shared, but that Johnny needs Daniel to hear.

He thinks that maybe, this is something they can talk about when Daniel returns to the US. They’ll reunite, and everything will go back to how it is right now, and Johnny will find out if he likes Speedwagon. He’ll find out if Daniel is the kind of listener who pays attention to the lyrics, and if he does, well, hopefully the reunion won’t get too awkward.

They never get the chance to practice karate together. The summer stretches forever until the day it abruptly ends. It’s Daniel’s final day in the states, and they’re just driving around. Johnny can’t think of a fitting “goodbye” so instead there’s just… nothing but _this._

“What are you gonna do while I’m gone?” Daniel asks while he fiddles with the radio, dissatisfied with every single station he finds.

Johnny shrugs, eyes on the road. “I think I’m gonna stick it out with this job for a while, see where that takes me.”

Daniel snorts at that, “Sorry dude, but that doesn’t sound like something to hinge your future on. You sure it can pay for like… adult stuff?”

Johnny turns to him, only for a moment, smirking. “It’s been enough to pay for your dinners and comics, hasn’t it?”

He doesn’t get an immediate reply. When he chances another glance at Daniel, he’s just sort of frozen, and those brown eyes have never been wider.

“What?” Daniel manages, finally. “But… your parents are rich? You drive this car; I’ve seen where you live…”

“My stepdad is rich”, Johnny says, trying to keep his tone light. “I want to be my own person. Don’t wanna owe him shit.”

“Okay”, and Daniel’s voice is strained. He’s staring ahead, his shoulders tense, as if it takes a lot of concentration not to turn to Johnny. “I kinda thought you spent so much on me cause your parents gave you a trust fund or something.”

“Nope. No nepotism here”, Johnny smiles, and he genuinely doesn’t know what he looks like right now. Knows that he’s bad at keeping his feelings hidden when he’s overwhelmed, and around Daniel, he’s always at some stage of emotional turmoil. “My blood, sweat and tears went into your milkshakes, LaRusso. You better appreciate it.”

“Gross”, Daniel’s response is immediate, and he’s laughing, but he’s soft around the eyes. Looks at Johnny with this tender, lingering gaze that feels warm. Inviting.

“You’re gross”, Johnny mutters, and they’re close to the LaRusso residence now. As he makes the turn down the street he leans in close, elbowing Daniel in the process. He gets an affronted yelp in response, and then Daniel’s hand is in his hair, messing it up beyond saving. He doesn’t even want to check the rear-view mirror to find out what he looks like. It’s enough to see Daniel look at him triumphant – to see him break into giggles at the sight of Johnny, trying to apologize but not seeming apologetic at all.

Eventually Daniel stops laughing. Eventually it’s just the two of them, and the static of the radio, and the night is dark and this is it. This is the last time they’ll have this. Daniel is breathless from laughing, Johnny is holding his breath, and they’re just staring at each other. Staring until Daniel is fumbling for the door handle, and as he exits the car, that dark gaze never leaves Johnny; drifts from his eyes to his lips, and then Daniel’s outside, wishing him a good night.

Johnny doesn’t remember the drive home. He tries not to think, because thinking will have him make bad decisions. If he allows himself to feel, he’ll go drinking. He’ll go picking fights in places he shouldn’t. He doesn’t have a good track record with these things.

Falling asleep is easy. He’s never needed to escape life like this before. Work starts early in the morning, but right now he couldn’t care less. He’ll sleep for as long as he possibly can, because it’ll be easier than having to be awake while it’s happening. It’ll be weird if he shows up to like… wave good bye at the gate, or some shit.

Of course, he doesn’t get to sleep in.

Of course, his mom wakes him up, saying there’s a call for him.

“You need to pick up the jacket”, Daniel says, somewhere between breathless and panicked. “We leave in like an hour.”

“Keep it”, and Johnny’s voice is still rough from sleep, and he’s barely awake enough to get what’s going on, but he clings to the phone like it’s Daniel pressed to him, voice nothing but a purr in his ear.

“I can’t, Johnny”, and Daniel’s pleading now, and man, if him saying _Lawrence_ was intimate, there really isn’t a word for what _this_ is. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. You need to get here man, right now.”

And Johnny’s pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and he’s in his car, and he’s on his way. He doesn’t really pay attention while driving, it’s all autopilot at this point. He gets to Daniel’s place, and there is luggage on the pavement, and then there’s Daniel – pacing, red leather over his shoulders, and the second he sees Johnny pull up he’s dead in his tracks, watching him.

Johnny’s out the car, and Daniel’s already shrugging out of the jacket, and it feels wrong. Nothing in his life has ever felt so _final._ But he manages to steel himself, to walk up to LaRusso and take the jacket from him.

“Thanks”, he says, and then, because it seems like Daniel’s ready to turn from him already, he clears his throat. “I brought you something. For the journey.”

Then he hands Daniel the Walkman, the mixtape ready to be played. Daniel takes it, their fingers brushing, at he stares at it like he’s been handed a live grenade.

“Just… listen to it whenever. It’s not a big deal”, Johnny says, finally, because if he allows Daniel to react to this it’ll get weird. He’ll thank Johnny sincerely, or refuse the gift, or some shit, so he’s gotta shut it down. Gotta make sure he just accepts the gift and goes on his merry way to learn karate in Japan or whatever.

Daniel nods, biting his bottom lip, his eyes are bottomless and he _doesn’t look away_. Johnny isn’t sure who reaches out first; perhaps they meet each other halfway, and wouldn’t it be nice to experience a world where no one has to strike first?

Daniel clings to him, if only for a moment, and Johnny has imagined what this would be like. Maybe it should be lame to dream of something as simple as a hug, but he’s wondered if it’d feel this warm. Safe. Grounding. It’s all of that, and more. He pulls Daniel flush against his chest, feeling all of him – the skinny kid that could easily kick him to the pavement – and nuzzling into his neck, breathing in sandalwood and salt and cheap shampoo. A scent that’s followed him all through summer, but that’s been elusive until this moment.

“I gotta go”, Daniel murmurs, eventually, disentangling himself.

Johnny steps away, holding his jacket instead of Daniel, letting out a shaky breath. “Kick ass over there, yeah?”

And Daniel looks like he’s about to lecture him about how he’s not going to Japan to beat people up, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just smiles, and he holds the Walkman to his chest, and then they’ve gone their separate ways. World’s apart. The summer has come to an end, and all Johnny’s got is his job – a vague idea of something better waiting for him.

He’s unsure for how long Daniel is gone, but he does know that he returns. It’s like being unable to sleep during the full moon, or feeling an oncoming storm in your bones; it seems completely superstitious, and yet, one day he _just knows_ that Daniel is back in the Valley. Soon enough, his grinning face is on billboards and in commercials. It’s haunting and bizarre.

That summer felt like limbo. This liminal space as he was moving from the person he used to be to something else, and then he sort of... got stuck.

Life happens. When does it not? Johnny goes through the motions. He finds work. He loses friends. He finds love, both in good and bad places. Nothing lasts, but he keeps on moving. There are things that are missing from his life, a devastating sense of loss he can’t place. He tries to soothe it any way he can. He drinks. A lot. Sometimes he calls his friends.

He doesn’t go to therapy because he’s not a loser. If he ended up going, it’d be like admitting something about himself.

He has nightmares sometimes, and he shies away from touch. Even when Robby was a kid and clung to him, soft arms around his neck, Johnny couldn’t stand it. With every year that passes, it feels like there are more and more things he can’t stand.

Even when he doesn’t engage with it, life keeps happening; at him; around him; and years and years pass him by, until one fateful night, when his car gets fucked up by some teens - when he comes face to face with the man that shaped his past and who'll come to shape his future.


	2. autumn of do-overs

The first time Daniel LaRusso buys something for Johnny, several decades have passed since the last time they met.

Johnny truly does his best to avoid the whole thing. He has convinced himself he can get into LaRusso Auto, get his car, and make a quick exit without have to see – much less talk to – Daniel, and yet… when their eyes lock from across the room, he’s caught. There’s a moment of something like surprise, maybe even shock, and then Daniel’s hurrying across the room as if it’s _that easy_ to bridge the decades of separation between them.

Those dark eyes are framed by crow’s feet now, but the spark in them has not faded. The closer Daniel gets, the wider he smiles, and Johnny wonders why on earth the sight of him would have Daniel LaRusso smile so brightly. He wonders what’s so different about him _now;_ what made him suddenly deserve this.

Within weeks, they’re brawling again, and it turns out that the easiest way to ignore years of doubt and loneliness is to get fucking angry. To lash out at the world – at Daniel – and ignore the voice in his head that tells him to chill the fuck out. The voice that sounds an awful lot like Johnny’s younger self, trying to remind him that _Daniel smiled at him_ that _Johnny promised himself to never ever hurt LaRusso again._

But the thing is… when they’re fighting it’s like decades haven’t passed them by; like that summer never happened; like they’re once again two high-school idiots, in over their head. It’s reassuring. It feels like home.

Johnny likes it, because _this_ he knows. There’s a lot in life he hasn’t figured out, but Daniel looking at him like he’s the scum of the earth? Daniel being ready to take a beating if it means putting Johnny in his place? This is the space where he belongs. A role he knows how to play.

For now, though, he’s just trying to get his car back, and Daniel’s reaching for him – reaching out like he _isn’t the one who left._ He smiles and like always, he touches Johnny so easily. Fingers clutching flannel, dark eyes intense for a brief moment until Daniel looks away… but he’s never managed to avert his gaze for more than a few seconds, has he?

Ever since they were teens Daniel has stared at him, and whenever he averted his eyes back then, it seemed for show. Like he knew he was _supposed_ to look away when he was caught staring, but actually didn’t want to.

Technically he doesn’t buy Johnny anything; technically… well, there’s _a lot_ of technicality going on between them… but ultimately it very much feels like Daniel is trying to give Johnny a damn car, and goddamn it if that isn’t an abnormal, overpriced gift. Johnny isn’t sure how he’s supposed to deal with it.

Even if they had stayed in touch throughout the years, this would feel weird – now it feels absolutely unhinged.

Daniel LaRusso hands him a fucking bonsai tree and then he doesn’t pull away. Their fingers brush and Johnny doesn’t know who refuses to break contact. For a moment in time, they’re both caught holding on to the pathetic little tree, fingers brushing, and neither of them let go. They need this to last just a few seconds more – need the physical aspect to ensure that the other is actually _here._

Johnny is too caught in the flurry of emotions; the shock; annoyance; humiliation – the warmth in his chest that burns bright and painful – to pull away.

Daniel does not break eye contact. It would feel like a staring contest if he didn’t smile so brightly – if he didn’t fucking bite his bottom lip, biting that bright smile, his eyes trailing Johnny’s features slowly before finally, _finally_ letting go.

Johnny leaves the dealership with a racing pulse.

He feels like he should be furious for being pitied, but this didn’t feel like pity. It should’ve been humiliating, but something much more complex than humiliation swirls through his mind. The bonsai tree weighs heavy in his hands, and he can still feel those soft fingertips on his knuckles. He lets go of the damn thing before he’s tempted to bring it home – before he heads to the nearest book shop to buy a guide on plant pruning or some shit. The fact that his mind even went there for a second, that he’d unironically consider bringing a damn _plant_ into his home, is enough to have him shiver in disgust.

The meeting with Daniel lingers in his mind, a haunting thing that he wishes only carried a feeling of rage. Instead, he has to deal with nostalgia and regret and that kind of bullshit, and he can’t even wash it down with a couple of beers in the evening. When he wakes the next day, every single thought, every single feeling, is still very much present in his mind.

Since his past has showed up in such a physical form, he figures he might as well unravel what’s left; figures there’s not point in denying himself the little things, if the biggest denial of his life won’t leave him alone.

Once he’s re-opened Cobra Kai all hell breaks loose; not that he expected any different.

He hasn’t felt this alive in years – especially since Daniel LaRusso is suddenly very much in his orbit again, all fiery temper and that lingering, heated gaze. How could Johnny do anything but pursue this, and cater to whatever Daniel needs him to be? He comes to find it’s easy to see his reflection in Daniel’s eyes, and live up to the expectation rather than subvert it.

There are quiet days though. Days when they aren’t at each other’s throats; late nights when he’s left alone with his thoughts. In those moments, Johnny thinks about their goodbye, and he wonders what happened in Japan. He wonders if the only way for them to meet again was to reunite as rivals – if there never truly was any space for them to exist in a different way.

The second time Daniel tries to give him a car, Johnny puts up as much of a fight as he can muster.

Turns out that when it comes down to it, he can’t seriously bring himself to fight Daniel. Not when it’s just the two of them. Not when he’s behind the wheel and Daniel is at his side, and it’s so very much like those long drives they would share at dusk.

For a short while, it’s easy to keep up the fight. To keep his voice harsh and to drive too fast, just to see Daniel squirm out of the corner of his eye. Except then Daniel turns on the radio, and of course it’s fucking _Speedwagon_ out of all things _,_ and then… then Daniel is nodding along to the music, his features softer, relaxing to the song in a way you only do when you’re really familiar with the band.

“You like Speedwagon?” Johnny manages, sort of bewildered, unable to tear his eyes off Daniel.

“What kind of man doesn’t?”

 _The kind of man who didn’t reach out and tell me as much after he returned from Japan,_ Johnny thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He doesn’t say it because it would be too emotionally slutty, and also because Daniel is smiling and there’s a challenge in his eyes.

Johnny waits, because maybe there’s more – maybe Daniel will actually elaborate… and there’s nothing. No mention of when or how Daniel might’ve started listening to the band.

Daniel must pick up on something, because after a moment he moves to turn off the radio, and it’s almost as if he needs Johnny to beg him not to. To turn to him with softer eyes, and speak to him with something like acquiescence, and of course; Johnny does so. How could he not, when this is the closest they’ve ever been to what they were?

While Johnny is busy trying to figure out how to ensure that his submission doesn’t go to Daniel’s head, Daniel starts singing. They’ve never done something like this before, and Johnny joins in because it feels like this could bridge the space between them better than talking could do. He joins in because singing is something akin to fighting, in the way you lay yourself bare for another person, and Johnny is not sure how he’s supposed to just let Daniel do that on his own.

So, they sing, and it’s like time doesn’t even exist, because they’ve been terrible to each other, and this shouldn’t be possible, and yet it is.

Johnny thinks of all the other things that could be possible, and he drives where Daniel guides him. The skies are clear as they take a trip down memory lane, and once they’ve set down on this road together, there’s no separating them.

Hours later they’re at a bar, having drinks that Daniel insists on paying for. In protest, Johnny keeps drinking shitty beer, because he’s always been good at sabotaging himself in order to prove a point to others. It’s not supposed to last, exactly, and Daniel specifies that they’ll only have _one_ drink. That’s not what happens. One drink turns into several, and a short conversation turns into hours of catching up. Hours that remind Johnny of long summer nights – of slightly too intimate conversation between teens that very pointedly know which topics to avoid. At least that part hasn’t changed. They’re still very good at not mentioning certain things.

The gentle touch of their first meeting is back. Daniel shows him facebook, holding out his phone so that they can look at Ali’s profile, and his hands rests gentle against Johnny’s palm. It’s _easy_ in a way it shouldn’t be, but Johnny doubts he’s ever been loved by a hand that’s touched him, because no touch has felt like this.

It should worry him how easy it is to slip into who he used to be. To rediscover that lonesomeness, the longing for someone to easily, kindly, hold him – the tendency to get overly attached to the first person to reach him after years of solitude. Maybe he should be worried that this has happened twice in his life now, and that Daniel LaRusso so easily grounds him with calloused fingers and casual touch. 

Turns out that Johnny is not the only one Daniel LaRusso is doing things for. Turns out that Daniel has bought Johnny’s son many things. Turns out that Daniel LaRusso’s generosity reaches into Johnny’s life like the tendrils of some primordial fucking monster, and Johnny doesn’t know what the fuck he is supposed with the directionless anger he’s left with.

He wonders if there’ll ever be a day when he isn’t this fucking angry. It’s not a rational thing, and he knows it. He knows he’s pacing like a caged animal, lashing out without knowing who put him in the cage in the first place. Or well, he does know; it’s just that life is a complicated bitch, and Johnny wishes his salvation wasn’t tied to believing that John Kreese can be better – but it is.

If Kreese can change, so can Johnny. If Kreese can be more than his shitty teachings, Johnny can break out of those same chains.

Thing is, Johnny’s already changed – he just didn’t notice, because it happened so slowly, through decades and decades. He hasn’t known much kindness, but whatever moment of connection he’s been blessed with; Bobby and the guys; Robby; Miguel; Carmen; _Daniel,_ _Daniel, Daniel…_ it’s shaped him and changed him more than he’d hoped.

Accepting that you’re not as damaged as you thought, is just as hard as accepting that you’re damaged at all.

Daniel LaRusso crashes Johnny’s date, and by now he’s not even surprised by how it plays out. Reserved voices, some barbed remarks, and then the walls come down and it’s _easy._ Easy to laugh, to steal glances, to sit opposite one another, to dance by each-other’s side.

By the time they leave the restaurant they’ve once again found some sort of peace, and when Johnny promises he doesn’t give a shit about waging any wars, Daniel pauses to look into his eyes. Johnny doesn’t know what he’s projecting – is scared he’s an open goddamn book at this point – but whatever Daniel finds, it’s enough to have him avert his eyes in that way he only does around Johnny. That dark gaze falls to the pavement, flittering back to meet Johnny’s eyes for a second, then down to his lips, and then down further.

Daniel holds his hand out, steady and insistent, and unlike every other time he’s touched Johnny without hesitation; this time he expects to be met halfway. It feels like a challenge. It feels like being goaded during a fight. Johnny grabs his hand and Daniel holds on to him tightly, fingertips pressing into the back of his hand.

“Good grip”, Daniel says, his voice unsteady. Maybe it’s supposed to be a taunt, but he just sounds giddy.

Johnny puts some proper strength into it, squeezing Daniel’s hand as tightly as he can. “Wish I could say the same.”

He’s all to aware of the roughness of his voice. How it drops slightly by the end of the sentence. Johnny turns away then, but as Daniel laughs exaggeratedly at his comment, he can do nothing but smile.

He doesn’t have to steal a glance at Daniel to know that those dark eyes watch him walk up to his car.

Just as easily as they fall back into peace, they fall apart.

Johnny loses more than he thought he could, and he’s not even worried about getting second chances anymore. He just wants to repair whatever he can.

Just as easily as they fall apart, they come together again.

After everything that’s happened, Daniel LaRusso shouldn’t drop everything at the sight of Johnny’s beat up face, but he does. One look at his bruises, and whatever tension’s left between them dissipates.

He’s soft around the eyes when he asks _“what happened to you?”_

By the time they get in Daniel’s car, Johnny knows that it’s too easy. He knows that they don’t have a good track record at this point.

Yet there’s something about him being in the passenger seat and Daniel being behind the wheel. Something about how easily he can fall asleep next to Daniel, and find some sort of respite from the shit he’s put himself through.

Daniel LaRusso buys him a juice, and after the man has thrown multiple cars his way, Johnny’s surprised to find that this is the gift that overwhelms him. It’s not that he particularly likes the taste of the drink, it’s just… different. In a good way.

Johnny does his best to sober up, and he wonders what life would be like if this was their baseline. He wonders if it’d be easier to get up in the morning if Daniel LaRusso drove him around and bought him disgusting green juices.

When they fight side by side it’s better and easier than it has any right being. Another horrible reminder of how good this could be if they just let it be good, for once.

The peace doesn’t last because it never, ever does.

When Johnny lays down to sleep that night, he tries not to think of what he would’ve done to that man unless Daniel had stopped him. He knows better than trying to force himself not to think of Daniel’s touch throughout the day. Easy at first, fingertips brushing over Johnny’s knuckles, grasping his hoodie to pull him close, and then rough. Holding him back, holding him down.

Johnny _does_ try not to think about how he’s spent his life wishing for someone to pin him down. At this point he really should know better than to get Daniel mixed up in those sorts of fantasies.

At this point he should know that Daniel has a tendency to fuck off to Japan whenever shit gets real.

Thankfully the bastard has the decency to return this time.

Reconnecting with Ali is the best damn decision of his life. She gives him closure he didn’t know he longed for – closure he honestly doubts he deserves. There’s also something about, well, actually talking about his feelings. Actually, admitting he has feelings in the first place. He does it so rarely, he’d forgotten how cathartic it is to open up. Usually, he just relies on his face being an open book, and people catching on to what he means, so that he never, ever has to say it out loud.

Of course, Ali would be a calming presence for the both of them. Of course, talking to her would have Daniel catch Johnny’s eye with an unguarded gleam in that dark gaze. Spending an entire evening with the two of them, trying to keep his focus on Ali yet drifting; drifting to always find those bambi eyes on him – like they’re back in high-school, back in the diner, back on the road – gives him a sense of hope he really should know better than entertain.

“Merry Christmas, Johnny”, and of course Daniel would go for such a cheesy olive branch.

 _“Merry Christmas, LaRusso”,_ spills from his lips before he’s put much thought into it. He catches himself, raising his drink, hoping it adds some flare. When he finally says _Daniel,_ the name rolls off his tongue in a way that has his pulse pick up, and he never wants to give this up again.

By now he should know that life never gets better without the universe immediately balancing it out by throwing the worst possible shit his way.

This time it’s different though.

It’s different, because when Johnny’s getting choked by Kreese in the dojo that was taken from him, Daniel LaRusso saves him. For the first time since they reunited, they, well, _stay_ united. When they hold their first class together Johnny can still feel the phantom touch of Kreese’s grip around his throat, but when he finds himself slipping, he looks up and there’s Daniel; dark eyes already on Johnny, and not a hint of pity or judgement. It’s such a simple thing, but it reminds him that despite everything, they still stare at each-other like they did back in high-school.

Despite everything, Daniel still sees him.

It helps him breathe through the panic in a way he’s not been able to do on his own.

Johnny loses a dojo and gains a dojo; he wonders if this counts as Daniel gifting him the damn thing. He wonders what the fuck he’s supposed to give the man in return.

Maybe he could gift him _collaboration_ and like, submit to Daniel’s style of teaching, but while Johnny’s grateful he’s not a damn pussy. Within the first week they find themselves grappling in the pond, after Daniel insisted they get on that damn weird-ass wheel thing. The students watch in silence as they try and drown each-other, and Sam looks like she’s having flashbacks to when Daniel kicked in the door of Johnny’s apartment.

There’s no need for them to worry though, because whatever change has snuck up on them, this time it sticks. Daniel dunks Johnny’s head under water, and when Johnny pulls him down under, they emerge drenched, coughing, but Daniel catches Johnny’s eye and he’s grinning – a heated gleam in his eyes.

It shouldn’t surprise him that teaching comes easy to them. Life has always been at its best when they allow themselves to be together.

Johnny prefers being at the dojo above all else. He drinks less. His mind is preoccupied. While teaching his kids, while planning stuff out with Daniel, there’s little room for him to spiral; for his mind to envision what Robby’s being taught – the fucking bullshit Kreese is feeding his son.

More often than not, Johnny lingers in the evening. As the weeks go by, so does Daniel, and Johnny doesn’t ask him why. He simply takes the company for what it is; enjoying the late-night talks, the reminiscing, drinking together. How they get caught watching karate videos online, hunched over Daniel’s laptop, arguing loudly about which techniques to incorporate in their classes.

“We should try that one”, Johnny murmurs, pausing the video. They’ve just watched a sequence where you kick the opponent in the chest, and quickly follow it up by sweeping their leg.

“You wanna spar now?” Daniel asks, his voice surprisingly rough.

Johnny looks at the time in the corner of the laptop screen. The numbers are tiny and he has to lean in and squint in order to see them. Daniel’s fingers are still on the keyboard; a fact Johnny doesn’t think about until he lets out a breath and Daniel’s hands twitch against the keys.

“It’s not too late to spar, old man”, Johnny says on a chuckle, sitting back up again.

When he steals a glance at Daniel, he finds that dark gaze already on him. Eyes wide, a single eyebrow raised.

“Johnny, the sun has set.”

“So, what? When does it not?” he rolls his eyes, opting to take a swig from his water bottle rather than standing up. He already knows this won’t be going anywhere, and so he’ll only allow himself to tease – nothing more. “Why don’t you wanna spar? Scared I’ll pin you to the mat?”

“Something like that”, Daniel mutters, shaking his head. “It just sounds like a recipe for disaster, you know? There’s no one else around.”

Johnny grins at him then. “Oh, it’d absolutely be a mess, Daniel, but I bet it would be fun, though.”

He can’t even tell himself he doesn’t intend for it to sound flirty. Johnny’s always been an open book to himself and others. The only times he’s managed to conceal anything he’s had to work hard at it.

Daniel doesn’t say anything. He stares at Johnny for a long time, and there’s a small smile at the corner of his eyes. Then he licks his lips, and it would seem absentminded if those dark eyes didn’t deliberately hold Johnny’s gaze.

“Sparring is reserved for classes, Lawrence”, he says, and there it is; _there it is._ Lawrence; said in that voice, rare enough that it feels like a pet name – something intimate.

Johnny swallows thickly, takes a deep breath, and then he puts on the most shit-eating grin he can muster. “Yes, _sensei.”_

Daniel stares at him with wide, unblinking eyes. For a moment it looks like he actually forgets how to breathe. Then he huffs a laugh, standing up. “Fuck you, man.”

“Fuck you too”, Johnny replies, cheerfully, following his example.

Locking up the dojo only takes a minute. They cleaned up hours ago, and now there are really no excuses to linger except for, well… and Johnny isn’t ready to take it there tonight. He’ll never be ready to go there unless Daniel is, and even then – Johnny wouldn’t want to insert himself in Daniel’s life if it came at the cost of ruining it. At this point he’s got quite a track record when it comes to making people’s lives worse by existing in their proximity and if there’s one thing he’s grateful for, it’s the fact that he somehow emerged with Daniel on the other side. That they somehow, despite everything, managed something _good._

Maybe a week later, Daniel shows up at Johnny’s door in the morning. It’s not _early_ early, but it’s still before 10AM, so Johnny feels justified in calling him an asshole for waking him up.

“I fucking knew you’d still be in bed”, Daniel says, walking through the door of Johnny’s apartment like this is a normal occurrence. “No wonder you always come speeding to the morning classes like you’re in a drag race.”

“Seriously Daniel”, Johnny mutters, heading to his bedroom because he _does_ feel underdressed wearing only boxers around Daniel. “Don’t you know that drag racing these days is all about wearing wigs and shit?”

The lack of reply is enough to confirm Miguel definitely watches more reality tv than Sam does.

He exits the bedroom maybe a minute later, wearing a worn-out Bowie t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and finds Daniel pacing the hallway, fiddling with his car keys, too distracted to even make a snarky comment about how Johnny probably pulled his outfit from the laundry pile. Whatever’s up with him, it’s bad.

Johnny runs a hand through his messy hair, tilting his head before he speaks, a bit unsure of how to approach this. “So, did you come here just to catch me in my boxers or…?”

It’s just on the right side of shameless, and the crow’s feet at the corner of Daniel’s eyes deepen as a laugh is startled out of him. He shakes his head, nodding towards the door. “Fuck off, Lawrence. Let’s go prepare for class.”

Johnny follows him to the car, knowing this is not about today’s karate sessions.

Daniel stops by some snobby coffee place, and when he returns to the car, he hands Johnny a green juice, a coffee and a sandwich. Johnny eyes the offering with narrowed eyes. “Swear to god Daniel, if there’s some bullshit like a 63-degree egg on this toast…”

Daniel shakes his head, sipping his own coffee. “Don’t worry. There’s only ham on it, and I already put sugar in your coffee. You don’t have to remind me of your atrocious eating habits.”

“Then why did you get me the juice?” Johnny asks, raising an eyebrow.

“The juice is a compromise”, Daniel says, a lightness to his tone, but there’s a set to his jaw, and he doesn’t look at Johnny when he talks. “I gotta make sure you don’t get scurvy.”

“I drink orange juice”, Johnny scoffs, drinking his perfectly sweetened coffee. “I’m more likely to get rabies than scurvy.”

“Why rabies?” And Daniel turns to him now, eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, and it’s honestly entertaining how easy it is to lure him in with the stupidest shit.

Johnny grins.

“Because I’m more likely to end up fighting a raccoon than stop drinking orange juice”, he states proudly, and it turns out to be the right thing to say, because Daniel snort laughs and shakes his head, looking slightly more relaxed.

“So”, Johnny starts, only managing a casual tone by keeping his eyes on the road. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

Daniel tries for casual. He fails because there’s nothing casual about him, and never has been.

“You’ve been acting all irrational all morning.”

Daniel tilts his head, gazing at Johnny with wide eyes, and there's definitely a crazed gleam there now. “I’m never irrational.”

Johnny laughs, hoping it comes across as friendly rather than cruel. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Well fuck you too”, Daniel mutters, and for a moment Johnny lets him be. They’re close to the dojo now, and he’d rather not distract Daniel while he parks.

Soon enough, they’re parked in front of the dojo, and Daniel doesn’t exit the car. Neither does Johnny.

“For real though, Daniel.” He’s not exactly good at this whole… casual touch thing. Johnny is much too used to bridging the space between them by throwing punches, and yet… he places his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, slowly, _gently._ “What’s going on with you?”

It’s clear that Daniel steels himself, staring out the window for quite a while, but he doesn’t shy away from Johnny’s touch. If anything, it seems to ground him. “Amanda and I are getting a divorce.”

Johnny stares at him, his hand dropping awkwardly from Daniel’s shoulder, trailing down his arm. “Oh. Damn. Okay?”

“It’s been going on for a while”, Daniel says, licking his lips, shaking his head, smiling grimly now. “I mean, probably… probably since I couldn’t disentangle myself from this karate mess, you know?”

Johnny nods, feeling like he’s a robot mimicking human interaction. His mind is absolutely blank, and his ears are ringing. “Don’t blame her for not putting up with that.”

Daniel sighs, but he doesn’t seem particularly offended. “At this point I think we’d be better friends than partners, and honestly? I’m looking forward to that. She’s amazing. I’d rather her be my happy friend than my sad wife.”

“Is she sad?” and Johnny’s asking the question before he thinks better of it. Once it’s slipped past his lips, he’s just thankful not to be immediately punched for it.

“I don’t know”, Daniel mutters, heartbreakingly honest. “And the fact that I don’t is the worst part.”

Well, shit. Johnny may have dealt with a divorce-type-of-thing, but it certainly wasn’t _this_ brand of divorce. He sucks in a breath between teeth, glancing at Daniel. Maybe he’s hoping to find something written in his expression, but there’s nothing – no clue how to best navigate this.

“You’re a good dad, and it seems like you were a good husband”, Johnny starts, because that sounds safe and helpful and generic. It sounds too much like all of those things, in fact, and Johnny has never played into shit like empty platitudes. “But you know, Daniel, sometimes people just grow apart. Sometimes you wanna wage a karate war and your long-suffering wife wants to run her car empire in peace.”

For a moment Daniel just stares at him, eyes wide, lips parted – caught with something on the tip of his tongue that he’ll never actually say.

Then he bursts out laughing, doubling over in his seat, and it doesn’t exactly sound like a happy laugh, but well… it doesn’t sound sad either, so Johnny just waits for him to recover - all he gets in return is a sharp punch to his shoulder.

“Fuck off”, Daniel says, his hand on the car handle now, but he’s hesitating. He blinks once, twice, and then he sighs. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help”, Johnny quips immediately, punctuating it with a wink, because that somehow feels like a normal thing to do.

Then they’re out the car, heading for the dojo, and within half an hour they’re teaching kids how to aim their kicks high; it’s not exactly _strike first,_ but definitely strike the face – hard. A compromise Johnny’s willing to make; he’s always been curious as to how Daniel’s so damn flexible with his high-kicks anyway. Especially these days. The guy is like damn cheerleader.

The next morning Daniel comes by to pick him up, and once again he buys Johnny breakfast. That’s how easy it is for them to transition into this new thing. After only a few days, Johnny’s even awake _and dressed_ by the time Daniel’s knocking at his door.

About a week into it, Daniel tries to add tomato to Johnny’s sandwich, and Johnny throws it out the car window.

At least Daniel always gets the coffee right.

Half the time Johnny’s too tired to talk, but on those mornings, Daniel’s real good at just turning on the radio and humming along to whatever’s playing.  
One day they tune into _Born in the USA_ , and well, Johnny can’t help himself. The memory is too vivid, and while Daniel is behind the wheel and Johnny is in the passenger seat, it’s so very much like how it used to be way back then.

“I love this Patti Smith song”, Johnny says, as earnestly as he possibly can.

Daniel’s first reaction is to stare at him with something between annoyance and concern, and then, slowly, when he finally connects the dots, he bursts out laughing. “I can’t believe you remember that stuff”, he says as they’re pulling up to the dojo, but there’s something breathless to his voice. Something about the way his hands grip the wheel so very tightly.

Johnny stares at those hands for a few seconds; the knuckles almost white now. He remembers what they’d feel like against his jawline, his cheekbones, his nose. He’s probably been punched by those hands just as many times as Daniel has touched him gently, but with the way things are going, soon the gentleness will be all he knows, and the violence will be a memory. The thought has his heart flutter, and it’s not really a pleasant feeling; there’s a pain in his chest at the thought of changing so fundamentally. For decades they have been the same, and Johnny can’t imagine what they’ll be like on the other side of this. What life could be like if he one day wakes up not longing for Daniel’s touch because he already has it.

On a normal morning, dreadfully similar to all of the others, Johnny looks at the coffee in his hand and then Daniel, and then the damn coffee again. “I feel like I should get you something in return.”

“You don’t have to”, Daniel says, averting his gaze in that decade-old pattern of _wanting_ to look but _refusing_ to. “Besides, you did this for me all of the time, you know… way back when.”

It’s the first time any of them has mentioned that summer since Johnny, well… explicitly hinted at it, sure – but he never spelled it out quite like this.

Johnny nods, clearing his throat before speaking. “Yeah, but it’s been decades. You’ve _more_ than repaid me.”

Daniel nods at first, but then he snorts a laugh, ending up shaking his head instead. “Gotta think about the inflation, man.”

“Shut up with that nerd shit”, Johnny mutters, stealing a glance at Daniel while he’s like this; flustered, but smiling – unguarded. “And let me buy you a beer sometime, or something?”

“This isn’t about you having to do something for me”, Daniel says, choosing his words carefully. “The same way it was never about that when we were young.”

Johnny leaves it at that, because how could he not? How could he think of something smart enough to say to counter something like so profound?

During the afternoon class they once again end up in the pond, and Johnny is painfully aware of two things. The first thing is that Daniel absolutely tripped them up on purpose, because they were doing _well_ for a while there. The second thing is that he can feel the searing heat of Daniel’s gaze when he emerges from the water, trailing his chest, his throat, his lips, before finally meeting Johnny’s eyes. This hunger should feel like something new, but Johnny knows very well that it isn’t.

In the evening neither of them lingers after class, and both of them know why. Daniel lets the radio play during the drive home, and it’s not exactly uncomfortable, but the air between them is charged. Johnny taps his foot against the floor of the car, his eyes trained on the road ahead, and he finds himself thinking that this too is something he recognizes.

He wonders if this is how Daniel would feel back then, as Johnny drove him home; if this is why he’d so often stare at the road – because the temptation to stare at the person behind the wheel is overwhelming. Johnny sneaks glances now, because how could he deny himself this? Daniel, illuminated by the streetlights, his striking profile and bright eyes. His hands on the wheel, relaxed in the way only an experienced driver is; the grip hardening as he notices Johnny’s eyes on him.

When they reach Johnny’s apartment Daniel wraps an arm around the back of Johnny’s seat, as he leans back to look out the rear window. At first Johnny snorts, because it’s such an old man thing to do. Then he catches himself, because they’ve been here before, and well… this is something Johnny used to do.

It shouldn’t feel intimate because these days they are often this close, and closer still, but Johnny can do nothing but stare at him. Take in the crinkle between Daniel’s dark eyebrows; the way he’s focusing incredibly hard on making parallel parking seem effortless. The moment stretches on, because Daniel’s parking is _anything but_ effortless, and Johnny let’s his gaze wander up Daniel’s arm; the stretch of blue fabric over his bicep, shoulder, the top buttons of his shirt left undone, giving way to tan skin and sharp collar bones. In every way they’ve changed, there are so many ways in which they remain the same, and Johnny can’t remember the first time his gaze lingered on the smooth skin of Daniel’s throat.

The car comes to a stop, and Daniel shrugs his shoulders with a shiver, sitting back in the driver’s seat, visibly trying to relax. His hands are on the wheel though, his grip hard, and he looks like he expects Johnny to quickly get out of the car.

Of course, him being so obvious about it has Johnny want to remain seated. He’s found that there’s nothing that pushes Daniel’s buttons quite like Johnny just… imposing his presence.

Daniel’s tapping against the wheel with his thumb, though, breathing stressed and eyes unfocused, and something about the way he holds himself looks like he’s readying himself for battle. Whatever’s going on with him, Johnny clearly isn’t the opponent this time, and what can he do but choose to be kind?

He exits the car, offering something like a salute. “Good night, Daniel.”

The gesture is odd enough to catch Daniel off guard, and he grins, all teeth and crows-feet, his eyes still wistful. “Good night, Johnny.”

Johnny watches him drive off into the night, and it feels like it carries a sort of finality. As he goes to sleep that night, he thinks that maybe he’ll have to drive himself to the dojo in the morning.

That maybe the debt from the past has been repaid, and he’ll need to buy his own breakfast from now on.

Except he tries to sleep through his alarm the next day, only for Daniel LaRusso to show up like clockwork, knocking insistently on his door. Johnny’s barely conscious, wearing only yesterday’s boxers, but at least Daniel looks equally worse for wear. There are dark circles beneath his eyes and his shirt is wrinkly – it might actually be the shirt he wore yesterday… and the day before. Johnny does a double take. The thought of Daniel not keeping up with laundry is apparently enough to not only wake him the fuck up, but also have him gawk like a schoolgirl.

“What?” Daniel finally says, voice tired but eyes gleaming.

Johnny shakes his head, pressing the palm of his hands to his eyes. “Nothing. Fuck. Let me get dressed.”

He only gets a hum in reply, and then they go about their routine as if nothing has shifted. Daniel buys him his coffee and sandwich, and the only thing that’s different from any other morning is that maybe, just maybe, Daniel is less subtle about watching Johnny on the drive over to the dojo.

Maybe, Johnny follows his lead, taking the lingering, dark gaze as an invitation.

Maybe, they spend the day circling each other, something new – something charged – between them.

At the end of the day, Johnny is proud that he kept things professional in front of the kids. He also reminds himself to check with Miguel what everyone’s saying in the group chat. It’s the only way to know for sure. The students have proven to be insufferable gossips – all of them – and Daniel refuses to punish them with push-ups.

By the end of the day, it’s just the two of them. The dojo is cleaned up, and there’s no need to stick around, and yet – they do.

Daniel is pacing the room, Johnny leaning against a door frame, waiting patiently for him to spill whatever’s on his mind.

Finally, Daniel turns to him. ”We signed the papers yesterday.”

Johnny blinks, once, twice. “As in… divorce stuff?”

Daniel huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Yes, Johnny, _divorce stuff.”_

And what’s there to say to that? Johnny can do nothing but nod, trying to think of something smart and helpful to offer, and coming up with nothing. “What do you need?”

Daniel’s eyes are so wide. His gaze trails down the plunging neckline of Johnny’s gi, then lingering on his bare arms, before finally snapping to his face. “What I _need?_ _”_

“Yeah”, Johnny says, proud of how steady his voice is. “Do you need to punch something? Cry? Get wasted?”

Daniel’s quiet for the longest time, and his gaze doesn’t feel as heavy, because his mind is clearly miles away. Then, finally, he sucks in a deep breath, meeting Johnny’s eyes, lips twisting into a smile – a challenge. “... I could spar.”

Of course, Johnny would agree to anything at this point; especially when it’s something he’s been longing for as much as this. Still, now that it’s actually happening, he finds himself wondering if they’ll be able to spar without the past tainting it. Wondering if sparring could ever be the start of something new rather than the continuation of their tumultuous history.

Still. He’s not about to reject Daniel LaRusso. Especially not when he looks at Johnny with heated eyes and takes a stance on the mat, waiting for Johnny to get close.

Johnny remembers that there was a time when he thought that their conversation would flow like sparring – like fighting. Now, well, maybe there’s something to the concept of changing with age, because now he catches himself thinking that their sparring flows like conversation.

It’s not about defeating the other, not anymore; it’s about the flow; it’s about not wanting it to end. He can see Daniel gradually relax – how there’s something soft at the corner of his eyes, a curve to his lips in an almost-smile. This isn’t about Daniel wanting to be beaten up, it’s about wanting to be seen, and man if that isn’t something Johnny knows what it’s like to chase.

He’s pretty sure that there was a time when Daniel specifically chased the feeling of fighting; chased something about the hurt, the challenge. It’s something that they might talk about in the future, but the future isn’t now, and this moment – the moment that he prolongs beyond what seems reasonable – has no need for words.

There’s only the push and pull of gentle touch. No punch is meant to land; no kick is meant to connect; it flows like dancing; reminders of what they could do to each other, but choose not to.

Johnny finds himself wondering how long they could possibly keep this up.

Then Daniel sweeps his leg, and honestly, the poetic justice is well deserved.

He loses his bearings, finding himself staring up at the roof of the dojo, and the next second Daniel is upon him, straddling him. Those warm hands circle Johnny’s wrists, holding his arms above his head, holding him down. _Fuck._

He doesn’t know what to do but breathe through it, hyper-aware of all the ways their bodies touch – of all the ways they don’t.

“Earth to Johnny”, Daniel says, breathless, and he’s smiling so widely.

Johnny blinks up at him. “Hi”, he finally says, dumbly.

Daniel grins down at him, licks his lips without breaking eye contact. “Hi”

This might be how Johnny Lawrence fucking dies, with Daniel LaRusso on his lap, melting beneath his touch.

He flexes one of his arms, and Daniel easily lets him go. The fight has left them, if it was even there to begin with, and so, Johnny reaches up, a hand cradling Daniel’s face. “Fuck. You’re beautiful”

“This is why we can’t spar, Johnny”, Daniel says, all smiles, leaning into the touch. “It makes us fucking stupid.”

He chuckles at that, thumb trailing Daniel’s cheekbone, thinking that this is probably the first time he’s touched Daniel this gently. “It’s fun though, right?”

“Yeah.”

And man, Daniel’s voice is dark, heady, and Johnny really wants to follow this wherever it might lead. Preferably not on the floor that has his back hurt like a bitch, though.

“Do you want a drink? I’ve got beer hidden here somewhere”, he murmurs, all too aware of how Daniel stares at his lips when he speaks.

His question is met by an eyeroll, and then Daniel has stood up, offering a hand to pull Johnny to his feet. “ _Of course_ you do.”

The beer is lukewarm, but it’s not like this is about the beer at all. They sit down on the deck, overlooking the garden, sipping the shitty, bitter alcohol, shoulders bumping.

Johnny doesn’t need much liquid courage to put his hand on Daniel’s leg.

That’s all it takes. Daniel’s gaze falls to Johnny’s hand on his knee, and then snap to his face. Seconds later he’s leaning in, and Johnny barely has the time to meet him half way.

Daniel LaRusso kisses like he argues. All fiery temper, but soft around the edges. His lips are chapped, and he presses chaste butterfly-kisses to the corner of Johnny’s mouth, his chin, and finally, _finally,_ his lips.

Johnny thinks he could lose himself to this. That maybe they need to close the dojo for a week, because this is the only damn thing he wants to spend the next couple of days doing. Then he can feel Daniel smile against his lips, and the next moment he’s pulled away, laughing.

“Thought you were all about striking first”, he giggles, and Johnny stares at him, the messy dark hair, the gleaming eyes, and he’s not even pissed off at the comment.

“How would I even do that with a kiss? You want me to fucking bite you?” he manages, his voice rough, and it’s not like he cares about that, because Daniel visibly shivers when he speaks.

“Maybe”, Daniel says, grinning, and then he’s leaning in again, and this time Johnny is ready. A hand tangling in Daniel’s hair he pulls him close, angling him into the kiss, licking along Daniel’s bottom lip before teasing with his teeth.

Maybe the weirdest thing about kissing Daniel LaRusso is that kissing him doesn’t change anything between them. That night Daniel drops Johnny off at home, and they part with a chaste kiss.

In the morning Daniel waits for him outside, honking the horn of his car like they’re teenagers heading to school. Everything proceeds exactly like normal, until they’ve stopped for breakfast, and Daniel won’t take his eyes for Johnny for even a second.

Johnny sips his coffee, trying not to grimace at how it’s warm enough to scald the roof of his mouth. “What?”

“I, uh” and Daniel shakes his head, a sheepish smile on his lips. “If I kiss you now, I won’t be able to focus during class.”

“That sounds like a _you_ problem”, Johnny says, smirking, punctuating the sentence with a wink.

Daniel just shakes his head, huffing a laugh. “Fuck you, Lawrence.”

And Johnny doesn’t kiss him, because believe it or not, he does have self-control when it matters.

Most nights Johnny still goes to sleep thinking of Robby, worry swirling in his brain and clouding everything else.

He still reaches out, looking through the text messages he’s sent and the little note saying when they’ve been read. At least Robby is still reading them. Somehow, these days, that fact doesn’t feel like rejection, but hope.

It’s not that life is easy, suddenly, but living is definitely _easier_ now.

Even on his worst mornings, Daniel picks him up like clockwork. Gets him coffee, and when conversation doesn’t come easy, there’s a gentle hand on Johnny’s knee instead. A warm touch to ease him into the day.

A warm touch he often imagines traveling further up his leg.

He knows that it’s probably good to take it slow. Knows that the last thing they need is to get impulsive about something volatile. It’s not like neither of them has the best track record with impulsiveness.

Turns out he doesn’t have to worry much about how to go about this. The thing between them has been decades in the making – it’s anything but a new relationship. They fall together easily, matching the other as effortlessly as they’d do on the mat.

Daniel grows bolder by the day; stealing kisses in-between classes; ambushing him in the bathroom and crowding him against the wall. It’s intoxicating, and Johnny has spent the past thirty years being overwhelmed by Daniel LaRusso, but never quite like this.

They’re in his apartment one night. It’s a Saturday, so they know they’ll be able to sleep in. It’s not even like Johnny’s made an effort; he bought them pizza and a few cases of beer, and put on a movie. Truly, he should make fun of Daniel for being easy, but well, how could he when all he ever wanted is for Daniel to push him against the kitchen counter and kiss him like he can’t survive without Johnny’s breath in his lungs?

For a while, it’s good. It’s _beyond_ good. Daniel’s hands are in his hair, blunt nails scratching at his scalp, fingers tangling in his locks and pulling on just the right side of painful. Johnny gasps into the kiss, hands resting on Daniel’s hips, and he’s about to pull him closer when Daniel’s hand is by his throat. The touch is gentle, but the memory that flashes through Johnny’s head is anything but.

The last thing Johnny wants to do is pull away, but the memory is visceral, so while he pushes through it, there’s a tension to his shoulders, a set to his jaw. It only takes a split second for Daniel to notice. He leans back, only a few inches, those warm eyes attentive as they search Johnny’s features. “What’s up?”

Johnny doesn’t say anything, but he glances down at the hand by his throat, and Daniel follows his gaze.

“Oh”, he says, a silent gentle thing. Immediately, he moves his hand to Johnny’s shoulder, but then he’s stood there, silent, and as the silence drags on his gaze hardens considerably. Johnny watches that fiery anger he knows so well burning hot through Daniel once again, and honestly? Johnny is so used to being the instigator of it that it takes him a while to realize that Daniel isn’t angry with _him._ No. Daniel’s mind is far away now. Perhaps in that parking lot all those years ago, or much more recently; when he was seconds from beating Kreese to a pulp.

“Hey”, Johnny says, his voice rough, because Daniel is furious, practically seething on his behalf, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. “Earth to Daniel?”

There’s nothing. Daniel looks like he’s seconds from getting into his car and going over to Kreese to straight up murder him.

“Danny?” The nickname is enough to capture his attention – perhaps because it’s the first time Johnny’s ever used it.

As their eyes meet, the fight leaves Daniel with a shaky breath. “Sorry”, he manages, but part of him is stubborn, not sounding sorry at all, and in that moment, Johnny is struck by the realization that he’s definitely in love with this short-fused Jersey boy.

He reaches for one of Daniel’s hands, the palm soft in Johnny’s calloused grip. Even in the dim light, he can see the scarring across Daniel’s knuckles. Remnants of his own hell; the way it has lingered, and the way it has healed over time.

This is who they are now. Not exactly who they used to be. Irrevocably changed, yet still just... Daniel and Johnny. Two hot headed dumbasses incapable of staying out of each other’s orbit.

As Johnny brings Daniel’s hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles, he’s breathing normally again, and he can feel Daniel’s gaze on him, heated, wanton.

Moments later, Johnny’s walked them over to the couch, as carefully as he can manage considering they’ve already had a few beers. By the time they’ve made their way through his messy apartment, he doesn’t need to tell Daniel to take the lead, no; he’s pushed onto the couch cushions, and Daniel straddles him. Like this, the man is a goddamn vision; his hair a mess, his lips kiss stung, his eyes impossibly dark, and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

Johnny grabs at his collar, pulling him down for an open-mouthed kiss, moaning into Daniel’s heat. He spreads his legs, giving Daniel the space to settle against him, for them to lay flush against each-other – for Johnny to chase friction against Daniel’s thigh.

“I can’t believe I’m dry humping Johnny Lawrence”, Daniel murmurs suddenly, breathless, awestruck by the situation he’s in.

They break apart, and Daniel looks absolutely mortified, as if he did not expect to say that out loud. Johnny just looks up at him, attempting a smug smile and knowing he’s failing, because his heart is racing and he knows he’s an open book; always has been; especially in front of Daniel LaRusso.

Instead of trying to say something, he reaches for Daniel’s hands. Holds them gently and entwines their fingers; then he guides them above his head, until Daniel is pushing him down on the couch.

Johnny holds Daniel’s gaze, and then he rolls his hips. It’s enough to break Daniel out of whatever internal turmoil he was going through. The next moment he’s all over Johnny, holding him down with a bruising grip as he kisses the breath from his lips. Johnny has never been this turned on in his life, and yet, the only thing in his mind is the thought of how goddamn much he loves Daniel LaRusso. How this is beyond what he’d ever hope for, and how he can’t fucking believe that this is something he gets to experience again and again and again.

These days their everyday routine is breakfast, classes and dinner, and in-between there’s so many stolen moments the kids probably have an entire new group chat strictly for sensei make-out gossip.

They usually spend the evenings at Johnny’s place. Daniel will bring takeout, and they’ll inevitably forget to eat it.

On this particular day, Daniel comes over, but this time he’s brought a boombox. As he walks through the door he gestures with the thing, waving it around like it weighs nothing. “I got this off ebay, you don’t wanna know how much it cost. Apparently, it’s a collectors thing now.”

Johnny follows him into the living room, watching as Daniel sets the thing up. “And you bought it… why?”

And Daniel doesn’t say anything. Instead, he holds up a cassette tape. The sticker on it is faded, and so is the plastic. Still, Johnny would recognize that damn thing anywhere. When he speaks, his voice is strained, but it’s all he can do not to tear up then and there.

“You still have it?”

Daniel nods, his smile so fond, but his eyes are misty. “Yeah. I put together a playlist so I can listen to it on my phone, but this… this is different.”

For a moment they just stare at each-other, and then Daniel puts the tape in the boombox. He doesn’t press play, though.

“I… I didn’t wanna ask about it”, Johnny admits, finally. “I didn’t know what answer I was hoping for.”

Daniel bites at his bottom lip, glancing between Johnny and the play button. “I listened to it on the plane, and I fucking cried like a baby.”

For a moment, Johnny just stares at him. “Okay… wow.”

“I was so fucking angry you couldn’t tell me any of this shit to my face”, Daniel says, shaking his head, but he doesn’t look angry now. “I felt like I’d missed out on something important, and it was easy to blame you, but I blamed myself too.”

Johnny clears his throat, glancing at Daniel’s finger where it rests on the play button. “What… was I trying to tell you?”

Daniel rolls his eyes at that, snorting a laugh. “Oh, I don’t know, Johnny? Do you think any of this was subtle?”

“I don’t know”, he says, so easily remembering all the thought his teenage-self put into this mixtape, so easily feeling that wordless desperation and hope. “I worked on it for weeks, and there was a lot I didn’t know how to say back then, so I don’t know. I hoped you’d hear the songs the same way I did.”

Daniel smiles at him then, a soft, warm thing that has his eyes sparkle. “I did. I still do.”

Then he presses play, and as The Touch start playing, neither of them can keep from laughing.

They’ve already fucking sparred; they’ve kissed; they’ve done so much more than kissing, but this, this is when Johnny knows it’s _real._ They’re on a new path now; they’re so much further than they’ve ever gone before.

The world has changed and they’ve changed, but at the core of this is something that lives forever, and soon enough, Johnny will be brave enough to say these things through other means than touch and music. Maybe Daniel will beat him to it – the bastard seems to have a tendency to strike first when it comes to matters of the heart.

**Author's Note:**

> i made a spotify playlist with [johnny's mixtape](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1yYpECyH29RnGPHpsSyY3i?si=5uSHUA2qT8GxGf0rqjJeuw)
> 
> sometimes i write short things on [tumblr](http://comediakaidanovsky.tumblr.com/) as well (but mostly i just cry about fictional characters), and i also have a messy af [twitter](https://twitter.com/comediafic)


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